It was always you
by wsinclaire
Summary: Arthur and Morgana have an unspoken deal. One night everything changes.
1. Chapter 1

Rating: M for a reason

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended; these characters belong to Merlin and the BBC, I own nothing.

Pairing: Morgana/Arthur

For T.D. and Mimi. You were very kind to request I write something for these two characters in the Merlin universe, and I sincerely wish you love it.

I am not a Merlin-pro; I have watched it with great joy in order to write this, so, please dear reader, don't be too harsh if I have made unforgivable errors.

Takes place before the proverbial shit hits the fan in Camelot.

Also, please note that I am well aware that these two characters are related, though they are not aware of it at this point, but frankly, I don't care if you don't. If it offends you, maybe give this a miss.

It's going to be two chapters only. Thank you everybody for reading, I hope you enjoy. x

WS

Of course it had to stop one day.

He knew that.

And he very much suspected she knew it too.

What was it even all about? They weren't children any more; she was certainly not a child any more, so why did she still get nightmares? In broad daylight, in "real life" as they had always referred to it when they were huddled under the blankets together at night when they were children and she had had one of her bad dreams, Morgana was the strongest, most infuriating, most stubborn, most obnoxious, most angry and most no-nonsense girl he had ever met. Not girl...woman, he reminded himself and gently hit his forehead repeatedly against one of the four posts of his bed.

There was this unspoken deal between them. She would come to him when she was afraid at night and he would never ridicule her fear, her unexpected vulnerability. He told her his own little secrets in return, and none of it ever left the safety of darkness.

Back in real life, they couldn't wait to torture each other.

And now, years later, their deal had suddenly left him stranded between a rock and a hard place. And it was getting worse. Because she was getting...somewhat irresistible.

"Arthur, I want you to look after Morgana like she were your own sister, do you understand me?" Uther had demanded the day she arrived in Camelot.

"Yes, father, of course," he promised, frowning at the grumpy looking young girl.

Their conversation from all those years ago was fresh in his mind again now, his father's words playing on repeat. Like a sister. But she wasn't his sister, was she?

"Stop it, stop it, stop it," he mumbled and felt every bit like the crazy lunatic he was. He tried to not recall the light scent of gardenia that had kept him up all night. Lately, he hadn't been able to sleep a wink in her presence. When had things changed?

Last night he would have given anything to bury his face in her hair and take her in fully, but instead, he didn't dare move, his heart racing, his skin on fire.

"Gardenia," he mumbled, and slammed his head against the post a bit harder. "What the hell even is a gardenia?"

"Gardenia, sire? It's a flower. They are..."

"Shut up, Merlin, I know what it is," Arthur snapped at his servant and left his chambers. He had to go and...do...something...anything.

WS

There had been a time when they were young teenagers when her dreams became less frequent, and often months and months would go by without her sneaking into his room. He started thinking she'd grown out of it, and he was okay with that at the time.

Until it happened again, and this time it was different. Not as carefree, not as playful, not as silly. Normally, she would always ask his permission, and he would lift the covers for her to slip into bed next to him, but that time she had no words, appeared almost apologetic, and it had carried on exactly like that for the past five years.

She would appear seemingly out of thin air, slip into his bed beside him and curl herself into him, seeking his warmth and his nearness. He'd pull her closer, his arm wrapped around her, a hand resting on her stomach.

He hardly ever noticed her leaving any more, either, and if it wasn't for her scent and a collection of long black hairs he would carefully collect and dispose of before anyone- Merlin- could grow suspicious, he wouldn't have even known she'd been there at all.

Often, as he sat across from her at the table, did he contemplate what might be going on in her head, behind those beautiful green eyes, and how it was possible that two people knew each other so well and at the same time didn't know each other at all.

He knew it couldn't go on.

And it didn't.

Because then came the night their deal was broken and he told her to leave.

WS

Arthur had just managed to drift off when he felt a gentle tugging on his sheets. He knew it was her. For some reason he knew; he always knew.

They went through the motions of silence and comfort, and in the end it was her who made the fatal error.

She turned around to face him, and suddenly his hand was on her hip, her warm breath on his face. Her eyes were pale in the darkness, and her skin and hair covered with a silver gleam. He searched her face for something, but couldn't find it. He briefly wondered how long he'd been in love with her...

"What is it?" he asked, trying to breathe, trying to stop his hand from shaking, trying to ignore everything she was doing to him.

"Do you think some people are born evil?" she whispered and he watched her mouth.

"I don't know. I suppose they could be,"he replied quietly.

She didn't speak again, just looked at him, and more than anything did he wish to read her eyes. There was something there. Something. On the tip of her tongue, and she wasn't spitting it out.

"You think too much, Morgana," he whispered and brushed a strand of hair from her face. "Always have done. Turn around, let's go to sleep," he said with as little emotion as he could manage.

She did as she was told and pressed her back further into him, and he held her tightly.

"Arthur," she whispered into the darkness, and there was something about the way his name fell from her lips that made him shudder.

"Shhhh, go to sleep," he said, and against his better judgement he moved his face another two inches towards her and buried it in her dark hair.

She wiggled her body ever so slightly even tighter against him, and he couldn't help himself but run his strong hand down her side and up. She shifted again, revealing the soft skin on her neck, and he simply couldn't not go there with his lips to get just that one little taste...Only when she let out a little moan did he snap out of it.

What the hell was he even doing?

Like this didn't already look like the very definition of sin.

"Treat her like she's your own sister." Remembering Uther's words almost knocked him for six.

"Stop moving," he tried, a piss poor attempt to laugh it all off.

"Why? I was enjoying tha..."

"Morgana. Stop!" he said and sat up. "I... Go. Please. I...can't think straight. Please...just go," he ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head violently from side to side.

Without another word Morgana left his bed and returned to her own.

WS

He spent the next few days riding like a maniac and beating the living daylight out of anyone and anything. He lost his appetite completely, yet never seemed to run out of energy.

Morgana avoided him. And she did a good job of it, too. So much so that every time he accidentally saw her, his mouth went dry and he felt like someone had stabbed him in the gut.

The only time he found himself in close proximity of her was at dinner, and one look at her revealed that she wasn't hurt about him kicking her out that night, but fuming. Not that he was able to look at her much at all, but then again, he didn't really have to, because it was all going on in his head 24/7. He couldn't shake the image of that night...all he could think about was her neck and the feel of her sexy little body against his, and how easy it would have been to just roll on top of her and...

"What on earth are you brooding over, son?" Uther asked, unable to conceal his annoyance about yet another meal spent in silence.

Arthur cleared his throat "It's nothing, father," he replied, avoiding Morgana's eyes.

"Whatever you say," Uther mumbled.

Everybody knew Arthur was lying.

And two people ended up pushing food around their plates for the next twenty minutes.

Arthur never could have imagined just how heavy and uncomfortable the unspoken would lie between them. Not once since the moment they first met did they find themselves in a situation where an argument or a minor disagreement could not be resolved by a bit of playful banter. Or by pulling her hair...or stabbing him in the ribs, pushing her off a horse, or her beating him mercilessly in a sword fight.

He wanted it to have been a mistake, but he knew it wasn't. He pretended for days that he didn't know what he wanted, but he knew damn well. He wanted to be able to settle this, wanted to pull her hair; and then fuck her senseless. And that was that, the truth, and it could never be.

With his dirty little fantasy out in the open he knew he could never look at her the same way again.

WS

"Why has Morgana sent me to tell you that she wants to see you?" Merlin asked with that puzzled look on his face.

"What?" Arthur looked up from his desk. "Wh...I don't know, Merlin, why don't you go and ask Morgana?"

"I'm only saying...she isn't normally that polite, I mean, she is polite, it's not that she's not polite, but why doesn't she just come here and..."

"Merlin!" Arthur interrupted. "I don't know. And I don't have time. I need to..."

"Yes?"

"Do..."

"Stuff?"

"Yes, Merlin, I need to do stuff. And I don't know when I'll be back. Please let my father know that I will not be back for supper."

"Yes, sire," Merlin looked after him and shook his head.

What was wrong with them all?

WS

"If you are waiting for me to apologize, Arthur, you can wait a thousand years."

Her voice came calm and collected from a dark corner of his room, and he could do nothing but say her name.

"Morgana."

How long had she been waiting for him? It had been dark for hours, most of Camelot was asleep already.

"I have nothing to be sorry for, and you know it," she told him and stepped into the light. He looked away, resisted the temptation to be utterly mesmerized by her.

"I am not looking for an apology, Morgana. I am sorry if I left you thinking that."

"You left me thinking all sorts of things, Arthur," she said, and there it was again; the way she said his name. "You are avoiding me. Why?"

"I thought you were avoiding me," he mumbled and started re-arranging things on his desk.

"I was, but now I'm not, so talk to me."

"Morgana, please leave me alone."

"Not until you've answered my question. Why are you avoiding me? Come on, Arthur. Spit it out."

He waited.

Seconds.

Minutes.

She didn't move, he couldn't breathe, and then finally: "I am not avoiding you," he said and looked at his hand on the wooden table top. "I am distancing myself from you. I believe it is for the best."

"Is that so?" she asked and he could hear her slowly walking towards him, and with every step she took, his heartbeat quickened.

"And I don't wish to talk to you about what happened. Seriously, Morgana. Just...go, because I can't..."

"I don't want to talk about what happened, either, Arthur, because what does it matter now?" she snapped. "I want to talk about what did not happen."

"Morgana. Leave it," he warned in a low voice.

"What if I won't, Arthur?" she teased, and he finally turned around to face her. He stood up tall, towering over her, regaining control.

"To be honest, I don't even know what you are talking about," he said and turned away from her again, tried to leave her standing there looking a fool.

"You're a terrible liar, Arthur Pendragon," she hissed and pulled him back around to face her. "I saw it in your eyes, and don't tell me I am wrong. I know what you were thinking."

"Thinking?" she shouted at her, suddenly unable to hold it together any more. "I wasn't thinking, Morgana, but now I am, so please will you just go? Get out," he said and couldn't help himself. He picked up a random ornament and threw it across the room. The noise was incredible, but Morgana didn't flinch, didn't move.

The silence that followed was fantastic.

"In case you were wondering," she whispered. "I wanted it, too. I want it. I have wanted it for so long. I always thought that one day it would happen, but I never thought you'd be afraid of me," she said frankly, and pushed him aside, making her way to the door. He ran after her, almost yanked her arm out of its socket and pinned her against the nearest wall.

"You know what happens when you play with fire, Morgana?" he whispered, and her eyes lit up.

"You get burned," she replied looking him straight in the eyes, and he was struggling to keep his balance suddenly, and so he pushed her even harder into the wall.

"Arthur," she whispered against his lips. "Let's."


	2. Chapter 2

Rating: M for a reason

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended; these characters belong to Merlin and the BBC, I own nothing.

Pairing: Morgana/Arthur

Pure unadulterated smut. Sinful writing, sinful reading. Enjoy.

WS

"Morgana, I can't," he whispered and traced the outline of her face with his fingertips. Her eyes fell shut for a split second, and she took a shallow breath. "I...I just can't."

"But you want to," she stated quietly, and he didn't bother denying it since his body was giving him away in the most embarrassing way.

"I am not like you, Morgana," he said, her delicious lips right there, inches from his. "I can't just rush into things like there's no tomorrow. And certainly not...with you."

"Rush into things? Arthur, don't tell me that you didn't see this coming," she said and shook her head in disbelief.

"And if we did and anyone...anyone found out?"

"Arthur, we have been sleeping together for years and nobody has a clue."

"Please don't say it like that," he released a breath he didn't know he was holding, and when he looked at her again, she had the hint of a smirk on her face.

"What, you don't like the way that sounds?"

He nodded his head in slow motion. "I love the way it sounds," he admitted, and traced the long line of her neck, then her collarbone with the back of his hand. "And I cherish every moment I have with you, but there is a line, and you know there is a line, and..."

She shut him up by taking his hand and running it further down her front, over her breasts. "And what, Arthur?"

"And...everything," he said flippantly and pulled his hand away as if he'd burned himself. He stepped away from her, looking for something to punch. Testosterone overload! What was she doing to him? He took a deep breath and crossed the room in a few long strides. Horny anger and frustration was not the right state of mind to be in when he was in the same room with her. He pressed his head against the cold wall. What was she even thinking? And he knew she wasn't looking to itch a scratch; Morgana could have any man in Camelot. And he secretly loathed that fact. The thought of her with another man made him want to put his fist through the wall...and of course, that was exactly what was going to happen. And probably sooner rather than later. His father would marry her off to somebody strategically promising; some ancient king who'd think it's his lucky day, who couldn't wait to put his senile, strategic, dirty hands on her. It made him bilious even imagining it.

He turned around and they stood on opposite walls, both with their hands folded in front of themselves, in a new kind of darkness, one that didn't have their answers this time. They stood quietly, patiently, regarding each other for a long time.

"You are beautiful, Morgana," he whispered when he could no longer keep it to himself. She at least deserved the truth from him. "I've always thought that, you know?"

"Always?" she queried in a playful way, and he relaxed ever so slightly.

"Well, not always. Sometimes you look pretty rough."

Outrage spread across her face in the most delicious way, and his heart skipped a beat.

"Rough? When have I ever looked rough, Arthur Pendragon?"

"Oh, I can think of the odd occasion," he laughed quietly, and again silence transcended.

"No, really, you are beautiful," his words caressed the night, and it sounded like a hidden promise. "And you know what makes you even more beautiful?" he asked, and she shook her head so slightly he almost missed it. "The fact that you're blushing. And I don't have to see it to know that you are."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not," she protested again.

"If I didn't know any better I'd say you put a spell on me," he smiled.

"Maybe I have," she suggested quietly, and her statement sat in mid air for a moment. "The first time I met you I thought you were a mean bully," she told him.

"A mean bully? I have you know I am the most compassionate soul in all of Camelot," he declared, held out his arms.

"Please, what do you dream at night?" she laughed.

"About you mainly,"he said, and she tilted her head to one side, watching him.

"You have dirty dreams about me, have you?" she enquired, and he shook his head.

"Not dirty. Filthy."

"When I was there?"

He shrugged. "Yes, especially then."

"Why didn't you share this very interesting information," she smirked.

"Oh, you were always out like a light. It appears my extreme manliness was always too much for you."

She giggled.

"Any details?" she asked, a picture of innocence.

"Nothing special. Your eyes. I dream about your eyes. And your mouth. I dream about kissing you," he said quietly, and she took a couple of slow steps towards him.

"I imagine you naked. And what it would feel like to run my hands all over you."

She took another couple of steps. Closer.

"And I dream about what your hair would look like. All in disarray, against your pale skin."

Another few steps yet.

"And I dream about what you would taste like," he said, watching her take that final step until she was right in front of him.

Her eyes were on fire and he reached for her crushed his mouth on hers.

Who had he been kidding? He'd secretly claimed her the first time he laid eyes on her, and now she was irrevocably his.

He couldn't remember ever having been kissed like that. He felt his knees buckle. She was sweet and rough and demanding and so, so delicious. He held her like his life depended on it, and she put her arms around his neck. Her hot, wet mouth found his ear. "Arthur. Let's go to bed," she said, took his hand and never waited for his approval.

She stood with her hands firmly holding on to one of the four posts of the bed and brushed her hair over one shoulder to reveal her back.

"Care to get me out of this dress?" she asked and when he didn't move she gave him a puzzled look. "Or did you think this was going to be a quick screw against the wall?"

"I...Oh, shut up, Morgana," he stuttered and got to work.

"And be careful," she instructed, and with a shaking hand he unlaced her inch by inch.

The dress fell to the floor leaving her standing in front of him in nothing but a white undergarment. He turned her around to face him and proceeded to trace her body through the thin fabric. He covered her breasts with his hands and sucked on her gorgeous neck. She let out an almost painful moan.

Slowly, slowly, one inch at a time, he raised the underdress with one hand until he was touching her naked thigh.

He was so painfully hard, he doubted they'd get anywhere at all...

The sexy little noises she made didn't help, just drove him towards complete insanity more quickly. When he closed his eyes, white dots came flying at him.

It was so good. So hot. So forbidden. So desperate.

"Arthur."

Hearing his name pretty much gave him the rest, and he pushed the underdress up around her waist and got on his knees.

She inhaled sharply, and for a moment he really thought that she might fall, so he pressed her harder against the pillar, his hands digging into her hips.

He put his mouth between her legs and ran his tongue over her again and again and again. He felt her complete surrender and he continued his sweet torture until she firmly pushed his head away.

"Arthur. God...just...fuck me," she mumbled, and her surprisingly crude language undid all sorts in him.

He shoved her onto the bed, almost ripped that damn virginal white thing off of her, got undressed in seconds and pushed into her like it was the last thing he'd do.

When she let out a wince of pain he briefly thought about apologizing, but he kissed her mouth instead. His senses were flooded with all things Morgana, and he quickly got lost in a mindless muddle of pleasure.

"Fuck me, Arthur, fuck me," she kept whispering again and again and again. She met him thrust for thrust and just when he thought he was dying, her sexy mouth found his ear again. "You're going to make me come."

"God's sake, Morgana." He gave her a couple of final thrusts until she completely crumbled, and moments later, so did he.

"Mygodmygodmygodmygod," he mumbled, his face buried in a pillow.

Morgana lay on her back and laughed out loud.

"Are you okay?" she asked him, and let her limp arm fall onto his naked back.

"Always knew you'd be the death of me someday," he slurred.

She laughed again, rolling herself onto her side. She ran her fingertips down his spine.

He shivered. "Don't touch me, I'm...wow...dizzy."

"Poor Arthur," she teased, but didn't stop.

Finally his face emerged from the pillow and looked at her through groggy eyes.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked tenderly, and Morgana pulled a face.

"Don't flatter yourself," she dismissed him.

"Morgana. I'm serious."

"No," she shook her head. "Not at all."

He brushed hair from her face.

"You know I'm in love with you, don't you?" he asked, and she didn't answer, but her eyes did. "It was always you."

She nodded and he knew that she understood.

"Roll over, let's go to sleep," he said and pulled the blanket over them. It was the way it always had been, and yet all had changed. He spooned her and kissed her neck like it had never even been forbidden.

A few minutes later he chuckled into the darkness.

"What?" she asked.

"Fuck me, Arthur, fuck me," he said in a high pitched, girly voice.

She kicked his shin. Hard.

"Ouch. Morgana!"

"One word, Arthur Pendragon, and you're a dead man."

He couldn't help himself and laughed again, and a moment later, so did she.


End file.
